


The Alarm

by virgin_storymaker



Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fanfiction, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8899402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virgin_storymaker/pseuds/virgin_storymaker
Summary: A short fic in which Adam gets mad at Blake for setting an alarm on the first day of the Christmas Holidays.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't really know what this is. Just Blake and Adam being Blake and Adam, with a slight reference to it being Christmas. It's completely random, and not much to do with anything, so I'm sorry if it sucks. I wrote it off the top of my head because I wanted something Christmas themed and this was all my brain could come up with on short notice. But, then again, it's just a bit of Shevine and that's a good enough Christmas treat for me. Hope you enjoy it :)

The alarm wouldn’t stop ringing- no matter how hard he willed it to do so- and eventually Adam had to admit defeat, rolling over towards his bedside table, still tangled in the sheets, in an attempt to reach it. He stuck his arm out blindly, but after he felt around for a bit he realised with a sinking sensation that the alarm wasn’t there. 

Groaning, he propped himself up onto his elbows, sleepy eyes sweeping the room for any sign of it. Eventually, his gaze came to land on the offending object which was lying on the floor in the doorway, the door left wide open. 

“Blake Shelton, I am going to kill you,” he muttered darkly, when realisation dawned on him. The alarm obviously hadn’t moved itself, and the other half of the bed was suspiciously empty. In addition, the singing that was floating through the open door into the bedroom had a certain unmistakable country twang to it, so there was no doubt in Adam’s mind that this was a pre-meditated effort to get him out of bed before noon. 

Still grumbling to himself, Adam grudgingly accepted his fate and hauled himself to his feet, only pausing to bend and pick up a discarded flannel shirt of Blake’s, slipping it on over his head before padding wearily to the alarm. He finally cut off the blaring noise it was making- pressing the off-switch with his toe- before squinting down to read the time on the digital display. 

“Holy shit, eight o’clock?” he exclaimed out loud, kicking the clock out of his way and full on marching down the corridor in the direction of Blake’s voice, now completely awake.

He stepped into the kitchen, and was immediately hit with the heavenly scent of frying butter and sweet syrup. Adam’s mouth began to water automatically, and he only forgot he was angry for a split second before he finally registered the sight of Blake, still singing out loud as he potted about in front of the stove. Blake, who was dressed in a reindeer onesie complete with an antler headband with bells attached, jingling every time he moved even an inch. 

Adam folded his arms. “You look ridiculous.” 

At the sound of his voice, Blake whipped around, startled, looking- ironically- like a deer caught in the headlights. His shock was quickly replaced with a sheepish grin as his eyes flickered up and down Adam’s body. “You don’t,” he replied. 

“Blake, what is wrong with you?” Adam demanded, refusing to feel pleased that he had just been checked out. “It’s the first day of Christmas break. I was looking forward to not having to do anything today, and then I’m rudely awoken by an alarm at a ridiculously early time in the morning. Why did you do this to me?”

“Ya say that like it’s a bad thing,” Blake said, shrugging, the bells on his antlers chiming in time to his movements. “Really, ya should be thanking me, ‘cause I made sure ya weren’t wastin’ the day away like ya usually do. Besides, eight in the morning ain’t early, and… ain’t it nice that ya get t’see more of me anyway?” He held out his arms, clearly an invitation, but Adam stayed put. 

He tapped his foot impatiently, arms still folded. “I could’ve been with you all day… in bed,” he countered. 

Blake sighed. “Aw, don’t be mad, Rockstar, I’ve got a ton of fun things planned for today, ‘cause I wanted to surprise ya. And,” he said, reaching behind him to grab a plate stacked full of golden goodness, “I made ya pancakes.” Adam’s stomach gurgled in response, causing Blake to smile as if Adam’s tummy betraying him was some sort of victory. 

“You can’t bribe me with pancakes, cowboy.”

“Pancakes, a reindeer onesie... Babe, I’ve got this in the bag,” Blake insisted. 

But if anything, Adam was stubborn, and he wasn’t willing to admit defeat quite so soon. “The onesie does nothing for you,” he said flatly. 

“Oh, come on,” Blake pouted.

“And the antlers definitely have to go.”

“Fine.” Blake rolled his eyes, taking the antlers from his head and tossing them onto the kitchen counter, setting the plate of pancakes beside them. “I forgot how moody ya can be when you’re woken up by an alarm.” 

“Only when that alarm’s not you, babe,” Adam said, this time in earnest, sauntering over to sit on one of the stools across the counter from Blake, fully aware of his boyfriend’s eyes on him. 

“I guess ya finally succumbed to the power of the pancakes,” Blake smiled, pushing the plate towards Adam. 

“No, I just wanted to sit down,” Adam argued. “And, yeah, I’ll eat the pancakes. But only because my tummy won’t stop rumbling, and definitely not because you made them for me. It’s basically a matter of self-preservation. I don’t want to starve to death, that’s all.” 

Blake laughed, leaning over the counter to give him a kiss on the nose, causing him to scrunch his face in mock disgust. “You’re so cute when you’re mad.” 

“Will you let me eat?” Adam cried in exasperation when Blake pulled back, still smiling like an idiot. 

“Sir, yes sir!” he said with a salute, quickly turning away to briefly rummage through one of the drawers behind him, spinning back around with a knife and fork clutched in one hand. “Will you be requiring silverware, my lord?” He bent forwards, as if to bow, holding the cutlery out in front of him like some sort of fancy offering. 

Adam snatched up the silverware, raising an eyebrow. “What is wrong with you?” He tried to sound mad, but Blake’s ridiculously happy face was finally causing a smile to tug at the corners of his lips. 

“Eat up, or they’ll go cold,” Blake said, smirking as he watched Adam’s failed attempt to suppress a smile with satisfaction. 

Adam rolled his eyes. “You’re so dumb,” he muttered as he began shovelling food into his mouth. 

Blake couldn’t help but laugh, and soon enough Adam was laughing along with him, his mouth still full of pancake. “Knew I’d get ya laughin’ eventually,” Blake said. “And a good thing to, I was gettin’ tired of grumpy Adam.” 

“Don’t lie to me, cowboy, you were getting off on my misery,” Adam said in an accusatory tone.

Blake chuckled, pointing to himself. “Who, me? I would never…”

Adam raised an eyebrow. 

“OK, OK, you got me. But I can’t help it, you’re just so goddamn cute.” Adam grimaced. “Yes you are,” Blake continued in a sing-song voice, tickling under Adam’s chin. “Oh, yes you are!” 

Adam erupted into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, leaning back on his stool and flapping weakly at Blake’s advancing arms. “Oh my God. Stop it, Blake, seriously!” 

“God, you’re so ticklish, ain’t ya?” Blake laughed, coming around the counter so there was no longer a table in between them, moving surprisingly quickly so that Adam didn’t even have a chance to react. 

“Get off! Get off!” he yelled as Blake sat down on the stool beside him, manhandling him into his lap when he stood up to try and leave. 

“Not a chance,” Blake murmured, pressing his face into Adam’s neck and breathing in deeply, tightening his arms around the frontman’s waist as he continued to squirm on his knees. 

Once Adam realised that Blake didn’t intend on letting go- and there was nothing he could do about it- he finally allowed himself to relax, sinking back against the country star’s chest, his head resting on his shoulder. 

“That’s more like it,” Blake said. 

Adam huffed. “Shut up and kiss me, you moron,” he said, tilting his head up as Blake leant down so that their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss that tasted of maple syrup. When Adam pulled away, he was smiling. “Now that’s more like it.” 

Blake chuckled softly, giving Adam and gentle squeeze before leaning over to grab something from the counter. Adam new what it was immediately when he heard the familiar jingle of the bells, and he sighed in a mixture of annoyance and contentment when the antlers were placed on his head. “Now,” Blake smirked, “that really is more like it. Now we both look festive.” He gave Adam a quick peck on the lips. “Finally ready to go n’ do some things in the spirit of Christmas, Scrooge?” 

“Definitely,” Adam said firmly. “But just so you know, I still haven’t forgiven you about the alarm.”


End file.
